Potent

By Tyler Wittkofsky and Kelsey Lovelady

Many know the age-old take of Oberon and Titania, a familiar story that has been shared throughout the ages. But are you aware of the genuine essence behind their story? 

Oberon, now known as Obe, is an enigmatic billionaire cryptocurrency tycoon. 

Tati Hastings, better known as Titania, is a renowne

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tea, but with Coffee Media
• Release date: Jul 11, 2023
• ISBN: 9781957893334

Book preview

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Isat hunched over my desk, scribbling away mindlessly on a notepad. Between doodles of my once powerful kingdom, I was making notes on the financial sheets for my new business. I had been one of the most powerful beings in the universe, but now I was barely known by anyone. A tech mogul named Obe was all I amounted to now. Sure, for a mortal that would be a happy life, to be a millionaire playboy, but not for me.

The ones that believed in me were locked away in the psych ward. Faerie weren’t real, not to the human mind anyway. The ones who supported my alter ego had no idea who I truly was, and honestly, I wasn’t sure they’d care. As long as they could keep their fortune and fame, they’d go along with anything and everything. 

The world had changed a lot over the last hundred years for a Faerie King like me. If it isn’t clear by now, my name is Oberon. The Oberon that served as the inspiration behind William Shakespeare’s Midsummer Night's Dream. The one that’s best known for turning a man into an ass in a jealous fit of rage. Truth be told, it was Will himself that I had actually turned into an ass. 

Titania and I parted ways for the last time over a hundred years ago. She left me to be with a mortal, as she did often. But this last time, she left for good. In her defense, months went by before I noticed she was gone. I was an asshole towards her, and she rightfully left me. Time after time she would leave me and I would say all the right things to win her back, but not this time. 

Nothing I could say this time would change her mind. She wanted to live a mortal life, and there was nothing I could do about it. As the years dragged by, I dragged myself away from my kingdom. I decided to live a mortal life like Titania. My hope was that it would keep my mind off of her. I would go out and live the bachelor life like the mortal men did when they had small dicks and lots of money. 

You even failed at that, Oberon.

The voices in my head grew louder once I left my kingdom. They were the voices that once caused me to kill men for no reason other than pure ecstasy. Being an immortal being doesn’t mean that I was immune to the same mental disorders as the mortals. In my kingdom, it wasn’t nearly as bad, though.

You belong to us out here. This is our kingdom.

I sighed and stood from my desk as I shook my head to clear my thoughts. Pushing my round, wireframe glasses up my nose, I took in a deep breath and listened to the beat of the techno music blaring around me. I closed my eyes and embraced the vibrations of the beat flowing through my body.

Never good enough.

Failure.

You’re no King.

Coward.

That’s why she left you.

You didn’t deserve her, Oberon.

Oberon…

Oberon…

Enough! I shouted and threw a jolt of energy at the face of the radio. The red ball of pure power pushed past the frame and sparks blew out of the radio. Both the music and the voices died down simultaneously. 

Oberon, I heard a voice come from behind me.

I ran a hand across my raven black hair and pushed it away from the shaved side of my head. Puck, I finally said before turning around to face faer. What do you need?

First, to make sure you’re okay, Puck replied with a hint of concern in faer voice. I was calling your name, and you just sat there tapping your foot with your eyes closed.

The voices, Puck, I explained as I rubbed my temples and shut my eyes again. They’re getting louder every day.

Puck lifted my chin up with faer finger. I opened my eyes and saw Puck staring deep into my soul. My King, we will not let them win. We’ll figure out a way to quiet them down.

Not for as long as you’re on the mortal plane. 

My nostrils flared as I clenched my jaw. I brushed faer hand away and turned around to walk to the window of my penthouse apartment. Puck’s footsteps got closer until fae stood beside me, placing a hand across my back and around my shoulder.

I looked down and over at Puck. Fae had been my most loyal friend for my entire life. The only one from my court I had brought with me when I left my kingdom behind. Faer short, disheveled, bleach blonde hair rested against my shoulder and I smiled. 

Puck?

Yes, my King?

Pausing for a moment, I took a deep breath. I closed my eyes and squeezed them tight before I could speak again. Is she coming back? I finally asked.

Puck’s breath hitched as I asked the question. I knew the answer to the questions better than fae did, but it wouldn’t stop me from asking. I had hoped that Puck would tell me one day that yes, she would come back.

She’ll never come back to you.

She’s successful.

You’re a failure.

Failure.

My breath quickened as I fought the sound of the voices filling my mind. I felt faer hand squeeze my shoulder. It wasn’t a squeeze intended to hurt, but instead one meant to comfort, to remind me that Puck was there with me. 

I knew that. I knew I had Puck and I always would have fae. That wasn’t who I wanted, though. It wasn’t who I needed at the moment. And it wasn’t Puck’s fault. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but mine that Titania was gone and never coming back.

She always does, Puck finally answered, faer eyes clenched shut. 

I shook my head. Not this time, I argued. Why would she?

Puck took faer arm back from around me and slid in front of me, laying faer chin against my chest. ‘Why would she?’ Fae asked, looking up at me. Because you’re Oberon. You’re the Orpheus to her Eurydice, the Osiris to her Isis, the Mark Antony to her Cleopatra, the King to her Queen, my lord.

You’re something to her alright.

The failure to her success.

The ex to her life.

I shook my head, looking away from Puck and at the radio face I had blown apart mere minutes before. I balled up my fist and slammed my eyes shut as the voices rang in my head louder and louder. 

"Shut the fuck up!" I shouted, my eyes shooting open and glowing black. Puck stumbled backwards and fell over the back of the red leather couch framing my living area. 

I could feel the way my chest heaved, trying to keep up with the rapid pounding of my heart within. My breath came in ragged pants, like a dog starved for water. Leave, Puck, I commanded in a more calm and measured tone than the one I had just shouted in. 

My lord… Puck started.

"Puck, I said leave. Get the fuck out," I ordered fae.

Puck lowered faer head and rolled off the couch. Fae walked to the door, stopping only to look back at me in all my drowning misery and self loathing. I saw fae bite faer lip and blink away what I could only imagine was a tear before fae turned and left my penthouse. 

I walked to the very couch Puck had stumbled over and laid down. Turning on the television, I closed my eyes and let my mind wander as the television played in the background.

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Titania, I called out as I walked through the eerily quiet halls of my palace. Where have you gone, woman? I whispered and stroked my chin. 

I continued wandering aimlessly through the corridors looking for my Queen. Not finding her, I wandered back to the throne room to see if anybody in there knew where she was. I hoped that Puck would be in there and could help me track her down.

When was the last time I saw her? It was a good question, and one I couldn't really answer. As bad as it sounded, being a king took a lot of time. I was gone for days at a time handling both internal and external affairs.

Surely it couldn't have been more than a week. Or could it have been? It wasn’t more than a month, for sure. Or was it?

I shook my head and pushed open the door to the throne room. The normally bright and beaming throne room was draped in darkness, drastically deepening the fear I held within me. Worst of all, when I got close enough to see the throne, I could make out a faceless figure sitting on my throne.

What’re you doing? I called out, pointing at the scoundrel in my seat. That throne is reserved for the King. Me.

I'm the King in this plane, Oberon.

I looked around for the source of the voice that seemed to come from everywhere but in front of me. This is my kingdom! Stomping my foot, I took a step forward. 

A step was all I could take before my entire body froze. I felt my muscles constrict and my throat collapse. My nostrils flared, trying desperately for air. There was a numbness shrouding my shell. 

You are my kingdom, Obe.

I attempted to refute, but my lips felt like they were sewed shut. Everytime I tried to separate my lips, I felt a pull on them keeping them from opening. My nostrils flared again as my eyes stayed on the faceless figure.

You're a failure. At everything you do. Including running this kingdom.

My heart beat heavily against my chest, a dull thud sounding one after another. I willed myself forward, just barely moving my left leg forward. The seizing feeling of my muscles tightened to an almost unbearable pain level.

You're a failure at being a King to all of these people. Look at how the world is falling apart.

I clenched my fist. It was the only movement I felt like I had control of. I opened them and took a deep breath. 

Look at how you drove her away. Your insolence caused her to leave. The crumbling of your kingdom came soon after, but you were too self-consumed to see it.

Shut up! I yelled, shooting up from my slumber. I panted heavily and looked around me at the empty room. The only sound was that of the television playing some tabloid channel.

Suddenly, a boudoir picture of a woman with a pink pixie cut flashed on the screen as the report switched to paparazzi chasing her down. I stood and turned up the tv with a snap of my fingers.

Tati Hastings has been spotted going to Russo’s on Main Street. She appears to be meeting with Casting Director Steven Sheehan to discuss a role in his upcoming, unannounced, untitled film, the tv reported.

My eyes grew wide. I dialed Puck’s number and waited for faer to answer. When fae finally did, I shouted, meet me at Russo’s now!

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T ati Hastings was just named the best plus-sized actress in the country. The cover, showing Hastings in a boudoir photo-shoot style, has claimed to be left as is by People Magazine. A spokesperson has confirmed that this photo has not been airbrushed or photoshopped, droned the voice on the television.

"Must they always qualify their statements with ‘plus-sized’?" I sighed.

Unphased by my exasperated slumping, Lark followed my head with the flat iron they were using to curl my hair. You know those skinny bitches are threatened by you. They have to find something to minimize your work and accomplishments.

I looked back at the newscaster, who was airing the story about me. She really is a skinny bitch.

And that’s why she’s on divorce number three, Dragonfly mumbled as he brushed blush onto my cheeks. 

The rest of my court and glam team hesitated to laugh until I did. Like she can afford a third round of alimony. My catty comment sent another wave of laughter through my kitchen. It felt good to hear the support and adoration of me bounce off of the granite countertops and white walls.

It really was good to be the Queen.

I may have technically relinquished my title when I left my ex-husband and the Faerie Kingdom behind, but I still had my court and my power. The glamor I needed to live was easily won once I came to Hollywood. While I was no longer Titania, Queen of Faeries, I was Tati Hastings, Queen of L.A. I ran this town. Hell, I practically built the city.

What are we thinking for rings today? Fern asked as she put the top coat on my nails.

Oh, you know I have so many to choose from. Bring me the box. Fern nodded and immediately fetched the ring box where I kept all of my prizes and mementos from loves long gone. 

My family was convinced they were all family heirlooms or lucky finds on my part, but they were in fact all the wedding and engagement rings I’d collected in the last century or so. I was more fond of some than others–I’d choose the 1960s Jackie O look-alike from Joseph over the 1920s Art Deco Jack Wier and Sons from Edgar any day. The 1958 Van Cleef & Arpels Sens, I said. A unique ring with baguette-cut diamonds and a pear-cut ruby. This gift from Hugh had always been my good luck charm, and I needed all the luck I could get that day.

The land line phone rang loudly, but only for a second before I waved my hand through the air. The receiver floated off the wall and rested itself next to my right ear. Normally I would have used my hands, but my nails were still drying, and I wasn’t about to undo Fern’s gorgeous work. Hastings Residence, I greeted, slipping into my American dialect.

Good morning, Ms. Hastings.

Good morning, Jonathan! It was the handsome young man who acted as the gate guard for the neighborhood. I may have been spoken for, but I was still thankful that our gated community hired college students looking for easy part-time jobs to be security. It certainly kept things interesting.

Your bodyguard has returned with your children.

Marvelous. Send them in. 

Right away, Ms. Hastings. 

Once Jonathan hung up, I floated the phone back to its place on the wall. A quick scan of the kitchen and living room confirmed that nothing inhuman had been left out or made obvious. Fern? I called.

On it. The petite sprite flew through the three-story home, looking for anything that gave away our immortal origins. It took her less than a minute to come back. Charade maintained, my Queen.

Good. I loved my children far too much to expose them to the dramatic and complex world of faeries. And if the rest of the mortal world ever found out about my true origins? Everything I worked for would crumble before my very eyes. I couldn’t put my family through that. They were going through enough as it was.

Less than a minute later, the front door opened to reveal Bear escorting my daughters from the car into our home. Bear lived up to his name‌. At over six-and-a-half feet tall, no one would ever expect him to be a faerie. Most simply chalked his intimidating figure to being a gym addict who might dabble in performance-enhancing drugs. He truly was the perfect specimen to protect my family. Especially my children.

We’re home! The unadulterated joy and youth in the voice was a dead giveaway for Samira. At only seven years old, the world was still full of wonder, and she hadn’t quite gotten to the age of disliking school yet. Primarily because she was too likable to be the target of any bullying. Many had tried, all had been disarmed by her natural charm. Of course, the lack of homework was also a wonderful perk.

My glam team stepped away from me, anticipating Sami to come running in for a hug as she always did. Thankfully, my nails were dry enough to get the use of my hands back. There’s my little one! I greeted, scooping the child up into my arms and setting her in my lap.

Malika was the next to enter. While the excitement of school had worn off for her, the smile on her face indicated she was still just as popular as she had been yesterday. And why wouldn’t she be? She was beautiful, likable, and partook in extracurricular activities. Guess who’s up for Prom Queen! She called excitedly, striking a dramatic pose with her arms open wide. 

The proclamation drew applause from myself and my entire glam team. Even Sami clapped, despite not completely knowing or understanding